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I used to write letters

I had words upon words within my mind

But not the comfort to utter them coherently

So I used paper

And pen

And wrote until my hand ached

And the lines ran thin

Now I’m lost for words

I try to write letters

I try to make up beautiful passages that I wish to pass on

A smile and a tear

Something meaningful to hold on to

I’m lost for words

I’m lost without words

And within them

They’re falling away from me

Tumbling gracelessly far, far from the corners of my consciousness that used to cling to them like air itself

I cannot speak

I cannot write

And what am I without my words

Just a mute

Moot

Bland

Destined to follow the script laid out for me

Until death do I part

Was my meaning laid in my words

My fate spelled out by the verses I purred

Or were they always so arbitrary

Unnecessary

Moot

So, perhaps, should I be

Mute

#words

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I slept for four hours of the afternoon And dreamt that people had the option to be stars if they so wished but those that did could never return.

I wonder if you would have chosen to join the sky instead.

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The subconscious can be a terribly cruel companion In the fog of the early morning As the body behaves as though it is learning to wake For the very first time.

#words

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Portraits, 2016 | by Toby Harvard

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Hale told me to give her three random words and she’ll do her best to improvise a song based on them, then this happened. 

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We all suffer heartbreak. It is universal, non-discriminatory. It will creep under your skin then tear you open from the inside, No warning signs. It sparks differently, person to person, Different events, different perspectives, Different consciousness. But it feels much the same. A gnawing somewhere within you. Something isn’t right. Something is very wrong. The feeling you get when you lose your feet from beneath you, The feeling of falling, The gasp just before you hit the ground. And pain, so tremendous, So intoxicating, You wonder how you once thought the thoughts that now consume you And didn’t even pause at their significance.

I have a fear of inconveniencing others. It is irrational, and, oft times, its existence is the inconvenience. It fills me with the urge to punish myself Every time I hurt Or disappoint Or get in the way. I will blame myself, time and time again, To avoid inconveniencing anyone with the negative connotations of responsibility for their actions. And it does nothing. I weigh myself down For nothing I dig myself in For nothing. I wear the costume of a martyr But I am just a coward.

It’s easy to feel alone When consumed by the flood of heartbreak. To assume no one else understands the way you feel Or what you have been through. But that is a lie A lie that our self-destructive ego feeds us, in an attempt to continue our isolation. Heartbreak is universal.

#words

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KISS ME, HARDY! Kiss me, QUICK!

#😩😩😩

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"The stars should create constellations to tell you stories that would fill your mind with wonder as you fall asleep, and in the morning the sun should float into the room and kiss your cheek with the first light of the new day."

Something someone, who wasn't particularly poetically inclined, actually wrote to me once..

#it's corny #yes #but fuck #I'm still crying

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Dogs Who Don’t Understand How BIG They Are

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I Take My Wolfdog On Epic Adventures Because I Hate To See Dogs Locked Away

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Photoghapher Turns His Grandma’s Old Van Into A Mobile Home So He Could Travel Across North America